


Dear Cas

by starship_destiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Destiel - Freeform, First Kiss, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Post-Purgatory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-09 00:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1962387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starship_destiel/pseuds/starship_destiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After escaping Purgatory without Cas, Dean deals with his broken heart by writing him a letter; one he knows the angel will never get to read.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dear Cas

Dean sat quietly at the small motel table with a half-empty bottle of whiskey in his left hand, and a pen in his right. A blank sheet of paper from a notepad that the crappy motel provided sat in front of him on the dark wood of the table, almost mocking him. He knew it was cheesy; writing a letter to someone when he knew that they would never get a chance to read it. But it was for  _Cas._ After the angel let go of his hand in Purgatory, when Dean was so damn close to getting him out of there, a part of him died. He knew that he wasn't the one to give up hope. The entire time Benny was leading them to the portal, Cas had been skeptical, switching between excuses like "it's probably not even real," and "I am not certain an angel will be allowed through." Cas had been the one to let go of Dean's hand in that moment. _He_ gave up. Yet, somehow through all of that, Dean still blamed himself. He should have tried harder. He should have held on tighter. He should have been  _stronger_.

Dean looked down at the pen, the shiny surface of it illuminated by the lamp light. He tightened his grip on it, and glanced over to Sam, who was sound asleep on one of the beds on the opposite side of the room. He smiled at his little brother, thanking what ever higher-power was listening for giving him someone to keep him strong. Though this whole situation had left Dean wrecked and feeling as though he would just  _fall_ any moment, Sammy was his rock. Dean knew that no matter what shit he went through, he could count on the younger Winchester to always keep him grounded; keep him from giving up. 

He turned his attention back to the paper in front of him, biting his lip. What the hell was he supposed to write? That he was sorry? That he should have found him in that horrible place sooner, and that he should have never let him get away? It didn't matter what he wrote; Castiel would never read it. His angel was gone, forever. Dean mentally cursed himself for thinking of Cas as  _his_ angel, but it was sort of true. He took a long sip of the whiskey, savoring the taste, and the feel of it burning its way down his throat. Not that the burn bothered him anymore, however, he could practically drink whiskey like water now. Setting the bottle down with a loud  _clank_ , he pressed the tip of the pen to the notepad. 

_Dear Cas,_

He wrote, after about two minutes of just sitting there. He took a moment, just one precious moment, and allowed himself to think of the angel. He imagined that he was sitting right across from him, at the other side of the table. He imagined the way that his gravelly sounded the thousands of times he had said "Hello, Dean." He though of the way Cas's deep blue eyes would light up when he spoke of his memories of Heaven, back when things were in order, and God was present. He thought of that dorky trench coat, and how Cas could barely stand to be without it. The way that the coat fit just a bit too largely on the angel, but Cas could pull it off, because it was just the way he was. He thought of the way his eyes would squint, and how he would tilt his head slightly when he didn't quite understand something. It was a look that drove the hunter mad. 

Those little thoughts were all it took. Because suddenly, Dean began writing again; the words flowing out of him like he knew exactly what he wanted to say all along. 

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel found the letter about a month after being rescued from purgatory, and reuniting with the brothers. He had seen the white piece of paper hanging out of Dean's jacket pocket, which the man had thrown carelessly onto one of the motel beds. Curiosity took hold of the angel, and he approached the bed, cautiously picking up the paper. It was folded in half like a card, and  _Cas_ , was written in Dean's messy handwriting on the outside. He glanced around the hotel room, even though he had knew he was completely alone. Dean was grocery shopping, and Sam was one state over, finishing up a simple ghost case. He was due to meet up with his older brother and the angel at the motel the next day.  

Cas sat himself on the edge on the edge of the uncomfortable bed, and slowly unfolded the paper to reveal a letter. A letter addressed to him. It wasn't very long, but the paper was fairly small, so it was understandable. The date was from about two months back, meaning Dean had wrote it when he thought Cas was gone for good, when he thought that Cas would never read it. Instinct told the angel that he should leave it alone; that it was private, it belonged to Dean, and that he should just put it back where he found it, and move on. Cas ignored the instinct. 

He began to read. 

_Dear Cas,_

_I know this is cheesy. It belongs in a fucking chick-flick for Gods sake, but I don't care. I need to get this out, so I'm writing you a damned letter. One you will never get to read. First things first, I'm sorry, man. I'm sorry that I promised to get you out, and then couldn't._

Cas winced slightly at this part, since it had already been established between the two that it was indeed Cas's fault. He was the one who let go, because he thought he deserved to stay. He continued reading. 

 _I just wish that you were_ _here. It gets kinda lonely sometimes. I mean, I know that I have Sam, and he's been a huge help through all of this, but it's just not the same. I can't talk to him like a used to be able to talk to you. But now I know that I'll never be able to talk to you again, and that kills me. It's like I left a huge part of me back in Purgatory with you, and now I have this huge, gaping hole in my life that can never be filled._

_Cas, what I'm trying to say is, I miss you. I miss you so damn much that it hurts. You were my best friend, and now you're just **gone.** And there's nothing I can do about it. _

Cas' breath hitched, and he felt tears begin to form in his eyes.

_You should still be here. I should have been stronger, and I should have been able to pull you out. But, I couldn't, and that's something I have to live with every damn day. I didn't mean to fail you._

"You didn't fail me, Dean," Cas whispered to himself, "You never have."

_I remember when you asked me if I didn't think I deserved to be saved. I didn't at the time, and I still don't. You're the one who deserves to be saved. I should be the one who is still in there. Not you. Never you. But, I guess life isn't fair. It screws all of us straight in the ass, and we just have to go on living like everything is okay, even when it isn't._

_Since you will never see this, I guess I can admit a couple things I have been keeping in since the night we met when I stabbed you in the chest (I still laugh about that sometimes). Okay, here goes._

_I really like your eyes. They were one of the first things I ever noticed about you. They're just so friggin' blue. I'll admit that there were some times that I caught myself staring at them. I can't help it though._

_I also really enjoy your hair. It looks like you just had sex or something. It's really attractive. Shit, I wanna erase that, but I'm writing in pen. Whatever, you're never gonna see this so who gives a damn? I'm free to say whatever the hell I want, even if it's me admitting that I have thought about you having sex more than a couple times. Not with me, though. Okay, maybe once or twice with me, but that's beside the point. I'm just trying to say that you have really nice, messy, sex hair. I kinda wanna run my fingers through it a bit._

Cas blushed, and reached a hand up to touch his vessel's soft, dark hair. 

_I love how tough and bad ass you get when going all angel on someone or something. It's really hot when you get that look when you're about to smite someone. It's just a weird turn on, I guess._

_You make an ugly trench coat look hot._

_When you get confused, you do this thing where you squint your eyes, and tilt your head to the side a bit. It's really adorable actually. Now that I think about it, that's probably why I threw out so many references that you didn't understand. I was most likely subconsciously wanting you to do that._

_Pretty much, I like everything about you. And yes, this was still all hard to write. It's even harder to say out loud. Almost damn impossible, actually.  It's nearly four in the morning now, and you know how I need my four hours, so. I guess I've said all that I needed to say. Damn, that was so chick-flicky. I tried my best to avoid it, but it just sort of happened. Damn it._

_Night, Cas._

Cas nearly set the letter down, before he saw more writing at the very bottom. It was tiny, and more sloppy than the rest of the letter, but it wasn't completely unreadable. 

He squinted his eyes to see it better. 

_You know what? Fuck it. If I'm never going to get the chance to say it you in person, I might as well say it now. I love you, Cas._

The angel's mouth went dry. 

_I really do._

More tears threatening to spill, Cas folded up the letter, and held it for a moment, staring at the smooth texture of the paper. Out of all the things he expected the letter to say, that wasn't one of them. It was the last thing, actually. 

He slipped the letter back into Dean's jacket pocket. Standing up from the bed. At that same moment, the door opened, and Dean entered the room. He carried two plastic bags, one filled with a bunch of sugary and salty snacks, and some apples (for Sam, obviously). The other, of course, held a cherry pie. The hunter set the bags on the table next to the door, and smiled at the angel. That was all it took for Cas to nearly lose control. 

Ignoring the quick beating of his heart, and the foreign, warm feeling in his stomach, he strode up to Dean, stopping less than a foot away. Dean got a worried look when he noticed Cas's serious expression. He tried to take a step back, but found that there was a door directly behind him so that he was trapped. "What's wrong, Cas?" he asked, his worry increasing. The angel didn't say anything for a moment; he just looked straight into Dean's green eyes, which reflected some of the sunlight streaming through the window to their right. Dean couldn't deny that he, too, started to get a warm feeling in his stomach. His breathing quickened when the angel leaned just an inch closer, his warm breath teasing his lips. 

"I found your letter, Dean," Cas said quietly. Dean's eyes widened in panic. No, oh, God, no. Cas wasn't supposed to see that. But, before he could get angry, before he could get a single word out, Cas rested a hand on Dean's cheek. Green looked into blue, and it seemed as though everything fell right into place in that moment. 

"Cas," Dean managed to squeak out, but the angel pressed his finger to Dean's lips, silencing him.  

"I am not familiar with what I am feeling right now, but it is a pleasant feeling," Cas began, now indiscreetly staring at Dean's full lips. "I believe that what I feel is love." Dean let out a shaky breath at Cas's words. "I love you, too, Dean."

Finally, Cas moved his finger, and pressed his lips to Dean's. The kiss was slow, light, and unsure at first, but they both quickly got used to the new feeling, and suddenly it was like they had been kissing each other their entire lives. Cas leaned into Dean, and Dean leaned into Cas, and finally,  _finally_ , they were together. Their tongues tangled, their mouths parted and let out sighs of happiness, and relief. Dean reached down and rested his hands on the other man's hips, pulling him as close as possible. He never wanted to forget this moment. He wanted it to stay in his mind forever. He never wanted it to end. So, he savored it. He allowed himself to enjoy what he was afraid that he might enjoy. He was finally kissing Cas, angel of the Lord, his best friend, and the man that he loved with all of his heart. It was everything that he needed. 

 

* * *

 

 

To be honest, Dean didn't think writing the letter would help. He didn't think getting out what he secretly felt on paper would give him some sort of emotional release. At first it really hadn't. He still felt the sharp pain in his heart when he thought of the angel, and he still felt like if he didn't scream to the world about his feelings, he would explode. But now, waking up the next morning with Cas's head on his bare chest, after a night of complete passion, love, and pure  _release_ , he didn't regret writing it at all. He was perfectly happy and content, and for once, right where he needed to be. 

He didn't even care when he looked up and saw Sam in the doorway of the motel room, staring at the pair with his jaw dropped to the floor. 

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoyed writing this. Thank you so much for reading! Don't be shy! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. :)  
> (Sorry for any spelling or grammar errors!)


End file.
